Hawkeye's Holiday
by wordBanksy
Summary: Riza Hawkeye needs a vacation. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like she's going to get an even slightly bearable one any time soon. Let's just say setting up tents is not Roy's forte, and some small-ish alchemists have an unreasonable fear of the dark.
1. Chapter 1

**I am sitting here with my imaginary bottle of champagne, about to embark on my inaugural voyage into fan fiction. Having lurked around on such sites for several years now, I have taken a great leap of faith and opened my own account. Am I scared shitless to expose my vile writing to the world? yes. Am I afraid of the flames of incensed readers? obviously. Do I feel that the need for grammatically correct/decent fan fiction outweighs my very legitimate fears? Well, duh, that's why I'm here.**

**So put on your seat belts, folks, and keep all limbs inside the vehicle at all times.**

**Let's do this.**

Riza Hawkeye strongly disliked her job. _Being the smart sidekick isn't all it's cracked up to be_, she thought absentmindedly as Roy clicked his pen repeatedly from behind his paperwork. After suffering through bad haircuts, angsty alchemists, and a tacky back tattoo, Riza was just about ready to call it a day.

"Rizaaa..." whined Roy, "When is lunch?"

"Noon." she answered curtly, and went back to pretending to fill out paperwork.

The pen clicking resumed.

"Colonel."

"Hm?"

"The clicking."

"What about it?"

"It needs to stop."

"Are you telling me what to do?"

"Yes."

"I am the flame alchemist! I am attractive and powerful! I am a tragically heroic and courageous character! DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, WOMAN!"

"Roy."

"Hm?"

"The begonias are on fire."

"Oh, right. Thank you. Um... at ease, Lieutenant."

Riza sighed and flicked the ash off her paperwork. It was definitely time for a vacation. Unfortunately, military benefits, although they covered tylenol, advil, and nyquil, did not cover therapy or vacation time, which would explain the perpetual cloud of psychological turmoil that constantly hovered over Central. Yes, it seemed like any other dull day, but something evil was lurking on the horizon. Thank god the Elric brothers were prepared for any sort of attack-

As she shuffled through another folder of forms regarding agricultural subsidies for alfalfa farmers on the western border, a post-it note fell out onto Riza's desk.

Some stuff came up.

Me and Al had to go up north for a bit.

Don't expect us back until...um...Thursday.

We borrowed your microwave.

-Ed

Riza rolled her eyes and checked her calendar. There was no way to tell when this note had been left, or what Thursday Ed meant, but with any luck they would be back soon. Technically the microwave belonged to the whole office, and the Colonel would not be a happy camper if he had to flame grill his lean cuisine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey look! Another chapter! **

**It's a good thing I'm sick today, otherwise you would have gotten this some time next week. As you will soon learn, my updating is very much like the Ghanaian mail service- erratic and everything is in fairly bad shape when it finally arrives.**

Episode 2: Al and the Fruitless Quest for the Electrical Outlet

Everyone loves camping. The fresh air, the smell of pine trees, the peaceful hum of wild animals living as God intended in a home free from pollution and violence; yes, camping is truly one of life's greatest pleasures. Ed and Al just hadn't realized it yet. After a seventeen hour train ride north and and four mile trek down an incorrectly labeled dirt trail, the Elric brothers and nature were engaged in a battle to the death. Obviously, nature had the upper hand.

"Are you sure there's power out here?"

"Dammit, Al, I don't know! I'm slightly distracted with this swarm of flesh eating gnats. AAAAGH! AAAAH! OW-"

"You know, I'm beginning to think those things are attracted to bug spray."

"That wouldn't surprise me at all. However, they shall realize the error of their ways when I BURN THEM TO A CRISP!"

"I could have told you that that was a bad idea before you did it. Look, right here on the can it says 'Not to be sprayed near open flame. Serious injury or death may result.' At this point, I might as well be a woman with all my directions-asking and instruction-reading. Would it really kill you to use a little _common sense_?"

"Have you ever realized what an unpleasant smell burning rubber is? Phwoar, that is just nasty. And lord knows the amount of splinters I'm going to get from walking barefoot in this wilderness... On the upside, smoke repels bugs, right? And that jacket was getting kind of stuffy anyways."

"It's raining."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is."

"Nope. I refuse to accept it."

"That was thunder."

"NOOOOO! Not a storm! I hate storms! I'M GOING TO DIE!"

" No you're not. I might, though. Rain has a tendency to wash things away. Like chalk. Or blood seals. You know. Just puttin' it out there. It's a good thing we know how to put up a tent."

Ed hadn't detached himself from Al's leg, and was now muttering something about "the end" and "armageddon". Al unpacked his backpack, which contained a military issue tent, a microwave, and four bags of popcorn, and set to work. Unfortunately, this tent didn't come with one of those handy illustrated IKEA how-to guides with smiling stick figures and 'all materials included'. This tent came with the charred remains of what appeared to be a wordy instruction booklet. With no pictures.

After struggling with the collapsible rods, burnt manual, and crumpled rain hood for the better part of an hour, Al wound up with a semi-functional crawl space strung up between two trees. There was still no outlet in sight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Still sick. Congratulations.**

Stuff about this chapter: Maes is alive, because he really wouldn't be any use to me dead. Havoc can walk. Ross hasn't been barbecued. You know the drill.

On another note, I like reviews. I like people who write reviews. If you haven't written one, you should. You obviously aren't that busy if you're reading this.

Back at the ranch, chaos reigned. Maes Hughes had been tying up the phone lines at HQ for the past two hours, causing much general annoyance and office rage. In a normal workplace, the worst that could happen would be some passive aggressive muttering at the water cooler. At central, however, the frustration culminated in the water cooler being set on fire, the fire alarms going off, and all the elevators jamming as a result. _Sweet baby Jesus_, thought Riza. _I used up the last of my tylenol extra strength this morning._

"Good news, lieutenant!" shouted Havoc a little too brightly as he dodged a dart aimed at the portrait of the Fuhrer. "We've been given a mission!"

"_Good_ news?" Riza scoffed as she confiscated the last of Roy's darts and smacked him upside the head with a file. "I highly doubt that. Our last mission was to check out a single unwarranted claim of cockroaches in that Xingese take-out place down the street. Don't think I've forgotten the incident with Fuery and the Pad Thai..."

"Um, no. I didn't imagine you would have."

"Moving on. Where are we headed this time? The deli? Your mom's?"

"Camping. We're going camping with the Elric brothers."

Riza didn't know she'd lost consciousness until she was poked rather rudely in the back of the head by Mustang's pen. Click.

"Was that my pen or your gun? HAHAHAHAHA- oh. It was your gun..."Roy's face fell as he regarded the end of Riza's pistol with growing panic.

"_It was both." _she snarled as she crunched the hated pen underfoot. "There will be _no more clicking."_

"Is it just me or have you been a little, I dunno, on edge lately?" said Havoc kindly as he patted her on the back and helped her back into her desk chair. "Maybe this will be good for you. You know, get out of the office for a bit. Relax. Like...a vacation. Going on holiday."

"It sounds like you're talking about death."

"There, there." said Roy helpfully.

_I might be out of tylenol, but I know I've got some whiskey stashed somewhere, _thought Riza miserably as she tried to recall where she'd put her sleeping bag and thermal socks.

"It's not exactly camping, per se. We're technically joining them on their mission to find the-" Havoc checked the the singed and crumpled memo- "Frostbite Alchemist. He's been living as a hermit somewhere in the north woods for the last ten years. He's basically useless as a weapon at this point, but the military wants to see if he's dead yet so they can stop sending the retirement benefits."

"Thrilling." sighed Riza. She hadn't meant to end up in this sort of job at all- the military had sounded exciting, and it would give her license to beat people up. After graduating top of her class from the academy and receiving the highest recommendations from all her superiors, being put in charge of a renegade colonel and his band of misfits was, to say the least, disappointing. But Riza Hawkeye was not a quitter. She WOULD prove everyone wrong about this pathetic squad of failures, dammit! She would prove herself! It was with this mentality that Riza found the will to dig her old single person tent out of the closet, pack up her back pack with spam, sunscreen, and extra ammunition, and plop herself down in the driver's seat of the prehistoric military all terrain 10-seater jeep.

She knew it wasn't going to be a pleasant ride when Roy clambered into the passenger seat clutching his "Best of Queen" CD and announced that he'd lost his headphones last week at the Central HQ family picnic.

"'Bohemian Rhapsody' is my favorite. I hope you don't mind it on repeat." Roy said as Hughes climbed over him into backseat, whacking Riza in the face with the large camera hanging around his neck.

"Not at all." she replied through gritted teeth.

Breda crawled in next, dragging a large cooler, and was quickly followed by Havoc, Ross, Fuery (who still smelled suspiciously like asian noodles), and Armstrong. Sheska made a valiant attempt to sneak in through a back window, but was spotted by Roy who oredered her back to the library for 'more research'. "After all," muttered Roy as he adjusted his box of fishing lures on the dashboard, "This is a serious mission. We can't have librarians hanging around just for the heck of it. We have real work to do."

Four hours down the road, Riza was beginning to regret her previous go-get'em attitude. It was pretty that at this point, no one was going to to go anywhere or get anything.

'_Is this the real life? Or is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality...'_

"Tell me about it..." grumbled Riza under her breath as Bohemian Rhapsody started over again. "Havoc! What did I just say about smoking in the car? SECOND HAND SMOKE, SOLDIER! IT KILLS!"

"Whatever..." Havoc rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette on Fuery's travel scrabble deluxe. As the sounds of bickering rose to fever pitch behind her, Riza contemplated death.

"Are we there yet?" Roy fiddled with the air conditioner.

"No."

"How much farther?"

"I don't know."

"Are we going to get there soon?"

"...Yes."

"How soon?"

"We're here."

Riza looked out the window at the forlorn pier sticking forlornly into the lake like one of Ed's wayward bags. A great expanse of blue lay beyond it, interrupted only by intermittent rocky islands, none of which looked terribly hospitable. This might take a while.

"Alright, everybody. Out of the car. Two to a canoe. Start paddling."


	4. Chapter 4

**SURPRISE! As I was sitting at my desk staring off into space and nursing a horrid head cold, the muse of fanfiction paid me a rather overdue visit. You, dear readers, are about to witness the hitherto unsuspected triumph of _two chapters in one day. _That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Two. In return, I expect you all to feed me grapes as I recline on my chaise. Also,write me reviews. Scads of them.**

"I love the stars," sighed Al. "Floating in space, millions of years old, and probably dead by now anyways. They make me feel so... small, like-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE WOULDN'T EVEN HAVE TO TOUCH THE BOTTLE MARKED "DRINK ME" IN ORDER TO FIT THROUGH THE LITTLE DOOR?" Ed was having a rough day. After very little sleep the night before (he had spent five hours up a tree, insisting that "the wolves were going to get him") and an impressive thunderstorm (which scared him almost as much as the dark), he was just about ready to call it a day. His humor was definitely suffering.

"Ok, that one wasn't even funny."

Al too had had a rough night. Coaxing Ed down from the tree hadn't been easy, and dealing with his brother's unreasonable fear of shadows, blowing leaves, and nocturnal mice hadn't put him in the best of moods. His patience was even worse than Ed's humor.

"Shit. I think I'm losing my touch. You know, it really isn't my fault. As far as comic relief goes, what have I got to work with? Short jokes. Short jokes and Winry beating me with a wrench. My life sucks..."

"Here we go again! Ed, what do you not understand about this complaining thing? I understand puberty is a difficult time, but really, why are you whining at me? I'm the one trapped in the tin can! I can't even _sleep!"_

"My mom is dead!"

"Um...so is mine."

"I have guilt issues!"

"I haven't eaten in over three years!"

"I have unfortunate bangs!"

"That's your fault, not mine!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I-"

"Winry! When did _you_ get here?"

Winry straightened her bandana and pointlessly tied her overalls around her waist.

"Nothing much. I was bored. I've never been camping before. Hey, what does this do? "E-M-E-R-G-E-N-" Whoops! Sorry guys!"

Al stared at the remains of his tent with a sad droop in his soggy feather.

"That took me an hour to set up." He gave a long, drawn out sigh and flopped to the ground with a clank.

"That's quite enough, you two. Pathetic. Here you are, supposed to be doing something vaguely important, and all you can do is mope." Winry rolled her eyes and pulled a wrench out of her back pocket as Ed backed away in barely concealed panic.

"Oh yeah? What are you doing here, huh? Why is it that you always show up when we don't need you? Me and Al were doing just fine before you randomly popped in to flip out at us over our lack of productivity. God, Winry. You're so-"

*thunk*

"What was that for?" Ed wailed as he held his hand to his head in an attempt to relieve the swelling of the exaggerated lump forming on his forehead.

"Nothing in particular. As you said yourself, you've only got two forms of humor- short jokes and wrench beatings. Your attempt to be funny was, quite honestly, extremely lame, so I'm trying to remedy the situation. Got a problem with that?"

"No offense, Ed, but she's right. This chapter is terrible so far and Winry might be our only hope for survival."

"But that isn't your _job_! You're not even _involved_ in our missions!" Ed was obviously struggling with the fact that he failed at something.

"What is my job then, smart-ass? I've got two things I have to do- fix your automail and have apple pie waiting when you finish saving the world. Your automail isn't broken right now, and you couldn't save a dollar if your life depended on it. Plus baking isn't really my thing anyways. So deal with my presence. Trust me, I'm only making this story better."

"Not to mention romantic tension between you and Ed!" squealed Al with glee.

"Um, gross." said Winry.

"EEWWWW! GIRLS!" shrieked Ed as he hid under the tent remains.

"This is so cute, you don't even know." giggled Al, as small pink imaginary hearts popped like bubbles against the sky.

Pink bubbles were not popping against the sky as Riza tried to teach the colonel how to steer a canoe.

"No, you move the opposite paddle to steer left. Opposite, sir. That would be the right paddle, sir. Other one. THE RIGHT FUCKING PADDLE, SIR!"

"Good lord, Hawkeye. I know my directions." ROy grumbled as he gave the left paddle a hefty tug. No one had followed her instructions of "two to a canoe". Maes was in his own canoe, frantically paddling in circles while snapping pictures of the "wildlife", namely one half-bald duck that didn't look like it was all there. Everyone else had piled into a canoe with Armstrong, who was somehow wielding six paddles at the same time.

Riza resigned herself to the unpleasant truth; they were halfway across a large, cold body of water, it was getting dark very quickly, and no one had remembered the bug spray.

Ain't that life, folks?


End file.
